


missed

by youngtiredandhorny



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Brother/Brother Incest, Dirty Talk, His name is Richard and we love one dick, Incest, Lace Panties, Lingerie, M/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Soft dom Richard tbqh, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, Trans Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngtiredandhorny/pseuds/youngtiredandhorny
Summary: Richard was supposed to come through the doorminutesfrom now - and Connor was going to put a glass of wine in his hand and welcome him homeproperly. With lips on his neck and hands trailing all over Richard’s body, showing himjusthow much Connor had missed him.





	missed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maximized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximized/gifts).



> this is for max!!! bc i read their porn and it gave me the idea for this one jfbsdjsgdfgbsdjfgbajdb ily b :*
> 
> not beta read bc I wrote this in like three days and i am Tired. blease accept it as it is and know that all mistakes are on me
> 
> oH YEAH ALSO: biggo incest warning :))

    His knee was bare, and the countertop was a little wet from where he’d just finished scrubbing it down. The stemware was on the very top shelf above the sink. It was a very adult-looking cabinet; the cabinet door was frosted glass, and there were lights along the base. Connor understood the aesthetic appeal of the glass cabinet, but in practicality, it was  _ asinine _ to put the well-used glassware so far out of reach.

    Usually they just kept two glasses in the regular glass cabinet. One of the lower one to the right of the refrigerator. Just for the two of them when they needed a glass to unwind from work, or simply when they were cuddled on the couch in their small intimate moments.

    But Richard had washed them last. He had dried them and stuck them above the sink, and there they’d stayed. Connor supposed that it made sense. He didn’t drink alone, and with Rich’s recent business trip, he had no use for them. However, it was still a very stupid move - and if Richard was here, Connor would have made him get the goddamned glasses.

    He was left to struggle on his own, as his brother had been absent for all of thirteen days. As much as he wished that Richard was here to help him, connor missed him very much.

    They’d talked on the phone every night before bed. FaceTimed once. And that was all very nice, but Connor was trying to be romantic. Richard was supposed to come through the door  _ minutes _ from now - and Connor was going to put a glass of wine in his hand and welcome him home  _ properly _ . With lips on his neck and hands trailing all over Richard’s body, showing him  _ just _ how much Connor had missed him.

    Fuck, he got a little distracted.

    Look, he was  _ trying _ , okay? The first glass came down easy. On shaky knees, he was able to put the glass face-down in the base of the sink, so he could go back up for the second one. His finger crooked around the stem of the second one easily, but when he leaned back to shut the cabinet, his balance wavered.

    In a split second of clumsiness, his hand flailed and a string of curses was pulled from his mouth. The left hand clamped onto the underside of the shelf like a vice, with his right hand scrabbling to join.

    And that knee-jerk response knocked the glass from his hand and sent it to the tiled floor. It shattered in a million glittering slivers on the floor. Connor winced, looking at it all over his shoulder. A curse slipped from his lips as he twisted, carefully lowering himself to slip on the edge of the counter next to the sink. It was still damp. He could feel it seeping in through the lace of his robe.

    Fucking fantastic. Just another thing to worsen the situation.

    He looked over the glass shards, trying to find a clean path so he could hop down and get to the broom.

    Ready to take his chance, he stretched his leg out. He found himself regretting his bare feet - even though he rarely wore shoes in the apartment. Maybe he should invest in a pair of slippers. Before his toes could meet the cool tile, and the obvious glass slivers awaiting him, he heard the telltale song of the front door unlocking.

    He drew his foot back, trying not to let his shoulders slump. There would be no way he would be able to clean all this up before Richard discovered him, so he slipped into a bitter sense of resignation. He crossed one leg over the other and adjusted his robe.

    It was too short to cover much, but it tried its very best. He pulled the sides, and looked down at himself. It was a pretty little number. The front was a black silk, but the back was a fine decorative lace, colored pale blue and stretching from his nape, across his shoulders, all the way down until about half of his ass, until the silk began again. It was new. Connor had his eye on it for a while, and thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to surprise Richard with it. There was a lot of little things that Connor wanted tonight, and half of them were going  _ terribly _ wrong.

    It would be fine. He might have gotten off-track, but he was sure that he could still make something of this disaster.

    Stretching across the counter, he took the bottle on the other side of the sink, all the while thanking the foresight that he had popped it open before this whole glass-fetching fiasco. He held it between his knees so he could grab the surviving glass from the sink.

    “Con?” Richard called. Connor held the nearly-full glass precariously in the air all the while trying to set the wine bottle across the counter again, far out of danger. Victorious, he righted himself with a terribly small sigh.

    “In here,” he called back, taking a breath. And then a sip. He straightened his shoulders and crossed his legs, flinging a corner of his robe over his thighs.

    Richard came through the door less than a minute later. He paused, hand on the doorjamb. His eyes raked over Connor for a long moment. His hand slipped from the doorpost, and he propped his shoulder up there instead, just… looking.

    “I would meet you,” Connor said, voice sounding like it was in the beginning stages of mourning, “but there was an accident, and I’m not keen on slicing my feet to ribbons.”

    Richard looked to the floor, surprised. Apparently he hadn’t taken that bit of information in, yet. “It would be a shame to spend my first night back in the emergency room,” he agreed. Glass didn’t crunch under his shoes until he was in the middle of the room. And even then, it didn’t last very long, because he was taking the room in strides until he stopped in front of his mark, placing himself right in front of Connor.

    Connor hummed into his glass, his eyes never leaving his brother. “That’s not how I expect my night to go, I will be the very first to admit.” He reached out and crooked two fingers into the high collar of Richard’s turtleneck and pulled him forward, angling his legs to the side so he could get Richard close enough to kiss him. His mouth was hot, but the kisses were slow. They added to the building desperation pressing along Connor’s skin. Here Richard was. Right in front of him. Literally at his fingertips, and all Connor did for the moment was  _ kiss _ him.

    His trailed off Richard’s chest, down his arm. He took his brother’s hand and wrapped it around his wine glass. He pulled back and leaned against Richard, temple to temple. Eventually, he sat back up. “How was your flight? Are you tired?”

    “Too long,” Richard answered him. He looked at the glass in his hand, rotating it slowly. As he lifted the glass to take a sip, the glint of his wristwatch under the kitchen light caught Connor’s eye. He traced his eyes down Richard’s wrist and his forearm. The sleeves of his turtle neck were pushed up to his elbows, hinting at all the strength hidden in those arms. Connor knew about all that strength first hand. He could pull up only the most delicious of situations when he was reminded of just how  _ easily _ his brother could overpower him. “I’m never too tired for you.”

    There was a distinctive shudder that ran down Connor’s spine, and he scooted as far back on the counter as he could so he could uncross his legs. He let them fall apart enough so that Richard could slot himself between his little brother’s legs. Richard’s hand fell to his waist, thumbing over the soft material of the robe.

    “I missed you,” Richard went on. His glass clinked gently against the countertop as he set it down. His eyes lingered on it for a moment, giving Connor time to wrap one of his legs around the back of Richard’s knee.

    Connor kissed him, pulling him close by hands on his shoulders. He ran fingers through the back of his brother’s head, scratching lightly at his scalp. “I missed you, too.” He peppered Richard’s jaw in chaste little kisses. His fingers dipped under the collar of Richard’s turtleneck, but not far enough to stretch the material out. “For the record, I still can’t get down from here.”

    Richard’s laugh reverberated through the air between them, and Connor shot him a glare, yanking at a small strand of hair at the crown of his head. Hardly a punishment, but it would have to do.

    In lieu of a legitimate response, fraught with words and banter, Richard just pulled Connor’s leg higher so he could hook it around his waist. Connor took the hint to hook the opposite leg around his brother’s waist as well, sliding forward so Richard could lift him in the air.

    Which just so happened to put his brother at the  _ perfect _ level to kiss at Connor’s neck. Connor hummed and tilted his head back just a bit. As he clutched the back of Richard’s neck, his shoulders brushed against the lace back of his robe and he sighed into the feeling.

    “This isn’t going to clean the glass up,” Connor informed his brother rightfully as Richard turned to cross the room.

    “Maybe not,” Richard agreed. He set Connor down on the other side of the kitchen door, careful not to step out in case he had any glass slivers stuck in the soles of his shoes. “But you can go wait in the bedroom for me.”

    Connor almost wanted to argue and clean the glass himself.  _ Almost _ .

    He gave Richard one last look that he  _ hoped _ translated to something along the lines of “ _ Don’t keep me waiting _ ,” or maybe even  _ “ _ I’ll _ be waiting _ .” He sauntered off, feeling Richard’s eyes on his back until he turned the corner and he was out of sight.

    And then he booked it. He practically skid down the hall, nearly missing their bedroom door in the process. His hand slapped onto the doorjamb and he looked in the room, eyes tracking all around, trying to figure out a game plan. Because the original plan? Out the window.

    He had tidied the bedroom earlier in the day, not really anticipating a window of opportunity to clean the room after Richard got home. It was supposed to be a time saver, as Connor wasn’t planning on spending much of the weekend out of bed, much less  _ cleaning _ .

    However, without it, there wasn’t much to do but  _ wait _ \- which was quite possibly the worst thing Connor had ever been made to do in his life.

    There were little possibilities, things to prepare. He could get the lube out while he waited. There was the little drawer of toys they kept, but the idea didn’t interest Connor in the least. He didn’t want elaborate toys tonight. He wanted Richard. His fingers, his mouth. On second thought, Connor’s mind jumped to the pretty purple dildo and harness they owned. He loved it; nearly fucked himself with it while Richard was gone. It was a tempting thought, but he had held himself back. It was for Richard to use. It didn’t feel right using it without his brother there with him.

    Connor sucked in a sharp breath and settled on the edge of the bed, his shoulders tense as he waited. His fingers rubbed at the silk of his robe that rested on his thigh. He didn’t want to take it off just yet. Besides, Richard hadn’t told him to take it off yet. Connor was sure that he hadn’t even gotten a good  _ look _ at it yet, so it would be more of a waste than a gain.

    He could prop himself up against the pillows and touch himself. He would  _ love _ to see his brother’s face when he stepped through the bedroom threshold. He could just imagine it, Richard looking him over until he got his fill, and then he might give an order. He might tell him to spread his legs, or finger himself open.

    And, of course, upon parting the robe, one would be able to take in the white lace of his panties and the garters around his thighs.

    Connor wondered how much of the panties Richard saw through the back of his robe. Just enough to hint? Anything at all? Perhaps the low light outside of the kitchen masked it from view.

    Dear God,  _ how long did it take to sweep up some glass!? _

    Nearly as soon as the thought came into his mind, Richard appeared. He had rid himself of his socks and shoes, and his sleeves were properly rolled up, now. Like he had taken the time to straighten them out and fix them up again. Like he stalled as long as he could.

    Connor made a soft sound.

    He took a hand out of his pocket and crooked a finger at Connor. Beckoning. Commanding. So fucking in charge that it made Connor ache with need. The murmur of,  _ “Come here,” _ was barely needed, because Connor was already slipping off the edge of the mattress, padding over obediently.

    Richard met him in the middle. His head tipped slightly to the side as he looked Connor over. “Been shopping?” he asked, rubbing the material of Connor’s sleeve between his thumb and forefinger.

    “Yes,” Connor answered with a little nod. Richard took another step into his space, close enough that Connor had to tip his head back to look up to his brother. “Like it?” His mouth picked up in a little smirk, because there really wasn’t a chance that Richard  _ wouldn’t _ like his little purchase.

    “Turn around for me.”

    He did, spinning slowly, stopping when his back faced Richard and he faced their bed.

    Richard’s fingers are light against his shoulder blades, tracing the intricate pattern of the lace. His thumb rubbed a tight little circle into his muscle, but it was soon replaced with a hot mouth.

    “ _ Oh _ ,” Connor gasped. Richard sucked on his skin through the lace, and when he pulled away, the spot turned cold against the air of the bedroom.

    There was another kiss to his back, but farther down and centered on his spine this time. Connor didn’t know what to do with his hands. He rubbed the heel of his palm into his dick to try and alleviate the edge he had been brought up to. Richard had barely touched him, and he was already needy.

    Richard pushed the robe up Connor’s body, and a small sound told Connor that he had fallen to his knees behind him. “Fuck,” he muttered. His hands covered his brother’s, telling himself that he was helping, but he just needed to touch in any way that he could, even if it was as minimal as clasping over his brother’s hands.

    “Hold this,” Richard said, and Connor took the material from his hands and held it higher, swallowing audibly. His hair stood on end. He could feel the ghost of Richard’s breath on him. Connor dropped his chin to his chest, staring down sightlessly at himself. He blinked rapidly, looking at the sheer material stretched over his cock, and the white lace of the waistband. “You’re so pretty, Con.” Richard’s voice was heavy with something akin to awe. Connor smiled at the praise, trying not to let himself shake.

    Richard sneaked a finger under the strap of the garter and pulled it back, letting it snap back against Connor’s skin. It was little more than a pinch of pain. The elastic wasn’t so strong, but the effect was still very much the same. He hiked the robe up around his chest, huffing a breath.

    “I’ve missed your taste.” Richard’s hands disappeared for a split second but reappeared quickly, spreading Connor open, the strap of his g-string hooked around his right thumb, pulling it comfortably out of the way. He pressed a kiss to Connor’s left asscheek, biting him. Connor whined above, wondering just what the fuck he had to do to get Richard to fuck him silly, to drag him over to the bed and absolutely  _ wreck him _ . “Would you like me to eat you out, Connor?” Connor’s eyes popped right open and he blinked. The tips of his ears heated and a small curse left his mouth. Richard hummed in question. “How would you like that? Want me to lick you open? Get you ready for my dick?”

    Connor nodded quickly. “Yes,” he answered, breath hitching in his throat. “Yes, please Richard.”

    He was answered by a tongue licking a hot stripe up his crack.

    “ _ Oh, fuck _ ,” he gasped, shifting his feet the smallest bit apart.

    Richard kissed his rim, barely dipping in the tip of his tongue. He licked his hole in a broad strokes until Connor was relaxed and used to the feeling. And then Richard’s tongue pushed into him, and Connor bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. His breathing devolved into messy panting, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

    His knees shook. He usually prefered that they do this when Connor was leaning over something. He was able to support himself, and prop his arms up somewhere. Beyond that, he was able to hide his face in his arms and muffle his  _ obscene _ noises.

    The noises that  _ Richard _ made were  _ plenty _ , thank you. The wet sounds, coupled with the feeling and the heat in his face that crawled up his ears, made Connor’s breath catch and his head feel light.

    “R-Rich, f _ uck _ .” He let go of the robe with one hand, letting it fall messily in Richard’s way so he could tangle his fingers into his brother’s hair. “Oh God, babe, I-.” He made a choked sound. He bent over slightly, pulling Richard closer with the grip he had in his hair. “I can’t-,  _ Rich _ . Need you, pl _ ease _ .”

    Richard pulled away with a slick sound. He rocked back on his heels and let Connor go.

    He stood up and Connor turned to face him, letting the robe fall around him again, like a veil, concealing every dirty detail about him. Well… not every detail. The silk belt was slightly ajar, revealing some of his mole-dotted chest. He could feel the cool air against his back, but it did nothing to cool him down. Nothing at all. It was tragic, really, to stand here in front of Richard like this. He was open, exposed for Richard’s eyes only. Burning with desire and  _ need _ .

    “Richard,” he breathed, pulling his brother’s eyes up to his face again. He felt like his knees were on the verge of giving out. Luckily for him, his older brother seemed to come back online, blinking rapidly. He reached out to tug the belt loose. He swept his fingers over the belt, considering. After a moment, it seemed as if the thought was discarded, because Richard let the silk slip from his fingers, falling to the floor in a pretty little pile.

    “What do you want, Connor?” Richard asked. His tone sounded very conversational, like he was asking Connor what he wanted for dinner. He pushed open the robe and his hands found Connor’s hips, settling over the lace of his panties. He didn’t offer options. He didn’t go on with his filthy mouth, outlining every thought that came to his head that had to do with Connor fucked out and blissful.

    He was going to have to  _ ask _ for it.

    “I want you to fuck me,” he answered, wavering slightly on his knees. His hands cupped his brother’s jaw and he kissed him hungrily. “ _ Fuck me, _ Richard.” He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and once again, he ended up with his weight supported on Richard’s hips as his brother walked him the measly four and a half feet. Richard twisted around and lowered them both down so that Connor was straddling his brother’s waist.

    Together, they worked off Richard’s turtleneck and his belt, not shifting enough to rid him of his pants just yet. Connor nipped and sucked at Richard’s neck, kissing every bit of skin he could reach.

    Things worked very quickly from there. Connor slipped off the bed to retrieve the lube, and as he did, Richard stood to remove his pants, and his wristwatch while he was at it. Connor was digging through a drawer in the bedside table when Richard’s hands found his shoulders.

    “May I?”

    Connor slipped  the material over his shoulders and let Richard undress him. He left a gentle kiss to the side of Connor’s neck before leaving him again. Connor glanced behind him to watch how Richard hung up the robe on the back of their bathroom door, taking care not to wrinkle the piece. Connor smiled at him before turning to pull the covers down the mattress, pushing them in a messy fold at the foot of the bed. It was then that he crawled back on the bed, lube in-hand.

    Richard went to the closet next. Connor knew he was going for the narrow stack of drawers housed their. He took a minute to look through the toys before resurfacing with a harness in one hand, the purple dildo in the other.

    “Did you ride this while I was gone, Connor?” Richard asked, dropping the toy less than a foot away from Connor so he could kick off his underwear and begin pulling on the harness. Richard made the awkward movements seem graceful.

    Connor was so mesmerized that he nearly forgot that he was asked a question. He shook his head emphatically, “I didn’t.” He skimmed his hand down his body so he could palm himself, rutting shallowly up against his own hand. The fabric stretched around the tip of his cock was damp with pre-come, and he rubbed his thumb against it, hiccuping a gasp at the feeling.

    “I bet you wanted to. To try and get yourself fucked open like a wanton slut,” Richard went right on like he hadn’t heard Connor’s answer. “But you know that no one fucks you like I do. Even yourself.” He buckled the last few straps, and that was that. All he needed to do was slip the dildo into the fitting, and he was golden. He climbed up on the bed and slung his legs over Connor’s hips, straddling him easily. He was so big over Connor, in every sense of the word. It made Connor feel small, lying under his brother like this.

    And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

    He squirmed under Richard’s gaze, and panted when he dragged a finger up the line of Connor’s dick over the white satin. “You certainly look the part.” His smirk was sharp and teasing. “Purity isn’t your color,” he remarked, running his finger along the top lace. “I believe you and I both know that.”

    Connor’s face burned with shame, but he moaned all the same.

    Richard’s tongue clicked, and he slid off of Connor, and settled bare inches from him. Connor’s legs spread of their own accord, and he pulled his leg up, supported by a hand under the meat of his thigh.

    Humming, Richard rubbed up and down the back of Connor’s thigh. “You’re gorgeous,” he told him. He was so earnest, so open and sincere. A wonderful feeling bubbled up in Connor’s chest and he keened.

    He offered the lube in his hand. A plea to hurry the  _ fuck _ up, because Connor was getting too horny to string together a complete thought, and he wanted something done about it.

    Richard got the bold-faced hint and took the bottle from him. He slicked his fingers up and teased them around Connor’s rim, pulling his g-string to the side. Slowly, he slipped one in to the first knuckle, pulling in and out and twisting before adding a second.

    A crook to Richard’s fingers and a press  _ just right _ had Connor jolting. He tipped his head back and moaned unabashedly. The leg not held against his chest curled around Richard’s back, drawing him in and pulling him close. Connor’s kisses were sloppy and uncoordinated, one hand clamped around his brother’s shoulder, the other anchored itself in the usually-perfect hair. Another graze to his prostate had his leg kicking out with a shouted curse.

    “ _ Please _ , please, I need,” his head hit the mattress and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh  _ G-Goood _ .” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I need you inside me.”

   He whined at the loss of fingers, but that didn't last. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch Richard fix the dildo into the harness.

    Afterwards, he stroked his long fingers stroked down the length, surely knowing that Connor couldn't pull his eyes away. Connor himself pushed up so he could reach for the bottle of lube. He drizzled some in his palm and replaced Richard's hand on the dick, slicking up the purple silicone quickly. It was almost as if he was impatient, or something. Ha.   
  
    Connor was left to look up to his brother. Richard was raised up on his knees, towering over him. Richard smiled down at him, his eyes bright and proud. He ran his fingers through Connor's curls, twisting a couple of strands around, pulling them enough to strain Connor's neck back.   
  
    “Lie down for me.” Richard released his hair, but Connor didn’t move his head yet, just stared at the molding on the section of the wall there the molding turned to ceiling, trying to contain himself, to preserve this moment for as long as he could. Richard clearly had other plans. He spoke slowly, his voice rough and deep, dripping with sweet promises that Connor just couldn't resist. “Show me how good you can be.”   
  
    He gasped a breath and moved quickly to settle against the pillows.

    Richard pushed his leg up to his chest. Connor hooked his hand under his own knee without complaint, laying himself bare. His expression was pinched with want. He was ready. So, so ready. He savored the feeling on Richard’s palms sliding down his thighs, lifting Connor’s other leg over his shoulder. Richard’s body boxed him in, and Connor held on for dear life as Richard pushed in.

    Connor’s breath left him. His fingers dug into the meat of Richard’s shoulders and he moaned freely. Richard worked himself into Connor’s pliant body, pushing in and stretching him until he bottomed out, his hips flush against Connor’s.

    Hiccuping brokenly, Connor’s back bent like a bowstring, pressing himself against Richard as much as he could. Richard kissed down his neck, biting down on the soft flesh under his jaw. Connor couldn’t hold back his voice. He let the gasps and groan fall from his mouth, letting Richard’s attention wrap around him like a warm, weighted blanket. Safe. Secure. Warm and loving, banishing any doubt from Connor’s mind, drawing him back to this single moment in time, right here, underneath Richard. It was like he was made to occupy this space.

    Richard’s wrist bumped against Connor as he slipped a hand between them. Connor peeked down to see Richard’s fingers dipped behind the harness, rubbing against himself. He made a quiet sound in Connor’s ear and braced his free hand above Connor’s head.

    He fucked him slowly at first, dragging in and out of Connor until he was panting and begging for more. Richard pulled his fingers from himself and put them to Connor’s mouth. He accepted them readily, lapping around the pads before taking them down. Richard’s thrusts stuttered and he pushed in sharply.

    Connor’s eyes went unfocused for a second and he moaned around his brother’s fingers, his mouth dropping open. Richard crooked his fingers and pressed against Connor’s tongue, watching as his mouth closed again and how he sucked languidly, tasting Richard on his own fingers.

    Richard’s fingers slipped from his mouth. His hips picked up the pace and he began driving into Connor with a reckless abandon, coming against his prostate with nearly every thrust. Connor’s eyes swam and his lungs ached - he couldn’t catch his breath. His clutched at the sheets in an effort to keep his hands off of himself. Richard hadn’t told him to touch himself, and Connor was glad that he hadn’t because he was so tightly wound he feared that he’d be finished within seconds.

    And then Richard’s hands skimmed up Connor’s arms. He gathered them up in one hand and pinned his wrists above his head. Richard’s sweat-slicked forehead pressed into the crook of Connor’s neck. Hot breath fanned over his skin, and suddenly everything felt so overwhelming. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he moaned brokenly, curling his fingers tight into his palms.

    “You’re doing so  _ well _ ,” Richard praised, voice muffled against Connor’s skin. “You’re so fucking good for me, Con. Thank you, baby.”

    Connor squeezing his eyes shut did nothing to stop the tears that fell. They dripped messily down his face. One trailed down to tickle at his ear, and he couldn’t be bothered to try and wipe it away. “- _ ck, Rich, _ ” he sobbed, wet hiccups leaving his mouth. “I-I, --  _ Oh my fu-ck _ .” His chest stuttered with his gasps, his hips jerked with every thrust of Richard’s hips. The kiss pressed to his shoulder was soft and consoling. His hand tightened around Connor’s wrists, as if he was reminding him that he was there.

    Richard leaned up enough to kiss his cheek, no doubt tasting salt on his way. Connor turned his head, stringing together his last strings of coherency to kiss Richard. He broke apart with a sob. He flexed his wrists in Richard’s hands, reaching for nothing, yet everything at the same time.

    He pressed his forehead against Richard’s and let his eyes flutter shut. “I missed you,” he said. He squeezed his eyes shut and new rivulets trailed down his face. “Rich, I missed you so,” he gasped, “ _ so much _ .” He hiccuped between words, arching against his brother. “ _ Fuck _ .”

    “Connor.”

    Connor thrashed, words leaving him. Jesus.

    Richard called his name again, slowing his pace until he was dragging in and out of Connor torturously slow, and he forced himself to crack open his eyes. He was meet with a pair of shockingly blue eyes. They were so close. Connor knew every fleck of gray in them, could call them by name. His vision blurred and he blinked furiously, not wanting to miss this moment.

    The kiss landed on the side of his nose, just under his eye. “I love you, Con.” He kissed the hinge of his jaw. He shifted up onto his knees so he could work his hand between them and into the front of Connor’s panties to take Connor’s cock into his hand. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”

    Connor could barely return the words, all wrapped up in too much stimulation and the sweet words. They settled high in his chest, sticky and warm and it left him  _ wanting _ . Wanting Richard closer, to press their every inch of skin together until they became one.

    His words were muddled, but he hoped that Richard got the message, because soon he was coming, spilling into Richard’s hand and onto the front of his panties, and words had become altogether impossible. He cried out, yanking against his brother’s hold. Richard remained strong, and fucked him through it until Connor was twitching and sobbing with his head tucked into his shoulder.

    Finally, Richard pulled out of Connor’s body. He let go of Connor’s wrists so he could unclip the harness and tossed it to the other side of the bed. Connor’s chest was heaving, still trying to catch his breath. His legs fell lifelessly to the mattress, leaving him spread wide and exposed for Richard. He looked blearily up at his brother, a little dazed, a lot fucked out.  _ Certainly  _ too fucked out to put down his arms yet.

    Richard lied next to him, but didn’t touch, letting him have his space for a moment while he soaked in the afterglow. He rubbed at himself, taking in Connor and the mess he had become. He rubbed back and forth across his dick, his breathing picking up.

    Connor blinked owlishly, watching from the sidelines, awestruck. He dropped his arms and rolled to his side. He pushed one of his legs between Richard’s. He dropped a hand to try and help bring Richard off. Maybe Connor just got in the way, what with his shitty coordination and inability to make his words work correctly again, but Richard seemed to appreciate it. The sounds he made were quiet, but Connor savored every single one of them.

    It wasn’t long before Richard’s arm was shaking and lurching forward to catch Connor’s lips in a kiss. He bit down on Connor’s lip as he came, shuddering against his brother. He dropped his head and tucked it in the crook of Connor’s neck until his breathing slowed back down to normal.

    “I want you to sit on my face,” Connor said suddenly, his voice hoarse from overuse.  _ Wrecked _ , his mind supplied.

    Richard snorted against his skin. “Right now?”

    “No,” Connor scoffed, reaching up to flick Richard’s ear. “Later. When I can… move again.” He hummed and relaxed his shoulders, melting into the mattress and dragging his brother with him. Come was cooling in his underwear, sticking to his skin and he winced at the feeling, but it was much too soon to pull away from his brother’s arms.

    Richard nodded. “The kitchen needs to be mopped. I went over it with a broom as best as I could, but just to be safe.” Connor’s answering hum was slow. His eyelids slipped shut, and he couldn’t fight the inane smile on his face.

    He couldn’t find any reason why he’d want to.

    “I’m so glad you’re home,” he said, running his fingers down Richard’s sides.

    A kiss found itself to his neck, and then a teasing bite. “Me too.”

    Connor shifted his legs and groaned, rolling part way away from Richard. “Oh, I hope to God my panties didn’t stain.”

**Author's Note:**

> my twitter is @demitryharder
> 
> if you've got any,,, like,,, requests or suggestions chuck 'em at me and i'll see what i can do


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